Zero Limit Read online

  “Well, Mr. President,” he said. “We’ve run through a number of scenarios and—”

  “Have you got something or not?” the president asked, his voice sharp and bellicose.

  “We have a lot of promising ideas,” said Alex. His words came out in a defeated rush, like the sound of a deflating balloon.

  “Promising ideas?” the president shot back, his eyes going wide. “We’re about to be annihilated in a matter of days, and you’re talking to me about promising ideas? And, if you will, please define ‘promising’ for me? You mean like that Chinese rocket that just shit the damn duvet? The one I went to bat for and got into bed with the Chinese government over asteroid mining rights? Promising like that?”

  The president sat back and folded his hands over his prominent belly. He rocked back and forth in his chair, seeming to be lost in thought, then sat forward and looked directly at Alex, waiting for an answer.

  “What happened with the Chinese impactor was a grave error,” he said. “I’m not going to sit here and attempt to argue that. But we’re trying—”

  “You know I’ve got a nuke big enough to punch a hole right through Jupiter, right?” the president said.

  “Um, yes, Mr. President, I am aware of that fact.”

  “And you know that my secretary of defense tells me that it most likely will be effective in knocking this thing right the hell back into space? A theory that you yourself corroborated right here in this very building not so very long ago, if I’m not mistaken?”

  “Again, sir, that is correct, but—”

  “Then what am I talking to you for?” he said. “I’ve got the damn codes, I’ve got the tools, and I’ve got the backing of just about everybody in my cabinet. And, I have a feeling that, when I address the nation later tonight, I’m going to have the backing of the entire goddamn country. And, probably the whole damn planet too. So, as far as this old boy is concerned, sold American and case closed. We’re gonna nuke the sucker. Kittredge, make it happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busier than a moth in a mitten here—”

  “Excuse me, Mr. President,” said Alex.

  The president blinked a moment, unused to being challenged. The other people in the room instinctively shrank back as well, looking like dogs that had unknowingly defied their master.

  “I’m sorry to be so blunt, sir,” Alex went on, “but it’s not as simple as that. What about the people on the asteroid?”

  “The people?” the president asked, then turned his narrow eyes to the others in the room. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  Dawn’s eyes closed as if asking, why did you have to bring that up when we were so close? Karen stood up and approached the president’s desk.

  “Dr. Sutter has a point, Mr. President,” she said. “There are three miners up there. They were working on the asteroid when it changed course.”

  “Aw hell,” he said, tossing his fountain pen onto the desk. “You could have mentioned that to me up front.”

  “It’s in the report on your desk, sir,” Karen began. “It’s . . .”

  A flurry of papers appeared as the folder was thrown in Karen’s direction. The president’s final word on what he thought of her report.

  “Jesus H. Barking Mad Christ,” he said. “What the hell do I pay you for?”

  He leaned back again, spinning around in his chair a few times. This seemed to relax him, and when the final revolution concluded, his expression was calmer.

  “So what do we have to do here?” he asked. “A damn rescue mission of some kind?”

  “There’s not enough time,” said Alex. “To mount a mission of that size in the time frame we have just wouldn’t be . . .”

  Another squall of papers as the president expressed his absolute disdain for Alex’s reply. Again the chair revolved and again the president returned placated. This time, however, he wore the look of a man who’d just been struck by a thought.

  “Where the hell are these miners from?”

  Four sets of eyes all flicked back and forth at each other. No one wanted to answer the president’s query. Finally, Alex opted to take the bullet.

  “The Moon, sir.”

  More hurled papers, accompanied this time by profane yet colorful turns of phrase delivered in a molasses-smooth drawl.

  “The Moon?” he said. “Well, holy shit in the henhouse, you four don’t know whether to scratch your ass or check your watch. Now, if these dumb sons of bitches broke an embargo and got themselves in a mess that could endanger the lives of everyone on Earth, that’s their goddamn problem. I say we nuke the thing and file those three under ‘acceptable losses.’”

  “Ordinarily, I would agree with you, Mr. President,” Karen said. “But there are some political factors to consider.”

  Everyone braced themselves for another paper shower, but it didn’t come. The president was now strangely poker-faced.

  “Such as?” he asked, a single eyebrow slowly rising.

  “Sympathy for Moonborns is growing,” Karen said. “It’s been a year since the bombing, and there are a lot of people who’ve been so negatively impacted by the travel ban that it’s softened their stance on the situation. Now that the world knows about the asteroid, it’s only a matter of time before word gets out about the people trapped on the asteroid. And when that happens, there will be people here on the ground who will advocate for them vocally.”

  “So what do you propose I do?” the president said. “Sit back and play pocket pool while this thing turns California into a water park just because some people are protesting over three illegals? Hell, they’ve been protesting me since the day I took office.”

  “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t do anything,” said Karen. “But we can’t just ignore them completely.”

  “You could mention it in your address to the nation,” Dawn suggested. “Make it seem like they were heroes. That they were trying to stop the asteroid from hitting Earth and they failed. Their sacrifice won’t be forgotten and so on.”

  The president nodded, his blotchy face splitting into a grin. “I like that,” he said. “That makes both them and me look good! Dawn, that’s why I pay you the big bucks. OK, it’s settled, then; we nuke the bastard. Kittredge?”

  The secretary of defense stood up. “Yes, Mr. President?”

  “How long after I give the OK can you have that bird in the air?”

  “Sir, it will take a few days to fuel the missile,” Kittredge said.

  “It’s not that simple,” Alex cut in. “It’s also a question of waiting until the asteroid is in the proper position in space. We don’t want the Thunderclap to actually hit the asteroid dead-on. The detonation has to be close enough to shift its track, but not so close that the nuke strikes the asteroid directly.”

  “And why not?” asked Kittredge.

  “We want to deflect the asteroid, not destroy it,” said Alex. “A direct hit could break up the asteroid, turning it from one falling object into many, with no way to deflect or control the debris. By detonating the nuke in just the right spot, the force of the blast should push the asteroid away. With that in mind, we have to wait for it to be in range.”

  “All right,” he said. “How long will that be?”

  “About forty-eight hours, we think,” said Alex.

  The president looked over at Kittredge. “Can you have that bird ready in forty-eight hours?”

  “We’ll double our efforts,” said Kittredge. “Do whatever we have to in order to get her there.”

  The president’s eyes went back to Alex. “All that sound good to you, Einstein?”

  Alex nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it does. But, Mr. President, I implore you to consider other options. The nuclear solution could make an already bad situation worse. As I’ve noted, the timing has to be perfect. And, if you’ll forgive me, the T’ien Lung incident doesn’t inspire confidence.”

  “You say you want us to consider other options?” said the president, and then leaned bac
k in his chair again. “What have you got? Thrill me.”

  Alex fell silent.

  “I didn’t think so,” the president said. “Now you head on back to the bughouse, and if you and your crew come up with something that blows my skirt up, we can talk. But otherwise, I’m addressing the nation and letting them know that, in two days’ time, this thing goes boom. All good?”

  Everyone said that it was, though their lackluster tone suggested that they thought otherwise, then thanked the president and filed out of the room. Dawn looked at Alex as they walked back down the hall.

  “In the grand scheme of things, that could have gone a lot worse,” she said.

  “I would really hate to consider how,” said Alex.

  “At least he made up his mind,” she replied. “I’ve seen him stare off into space for ten minutes while supposedly considering a proposal, then suddenly snap back to reality and go off on a tangent about some random person who’s supposedly wronged him. This time, at least we’ve got a course of action.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “But is it the right one?”

  “Well, it’s like the president said,” Dawn told him, “you’ve got forty-eight hours to convince him otherwise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Vee and Shaw returned from their last EVA with bad news. Next to nothing was left of the sail where Diaz and Caitlin had put it down. This revelation was particularly demoralizing to Caitlin. Not that she had put much hope in the sail to begin with, but to see that it was completely destroyed somehow made the situation feel more hopeless. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Diaz had died for nothing. And worse yet, that he should never have been out there in the first place.

  “OK,” she finally said, guilt threatening to overwhelm her. “We need to start focusing our attention on getting off of this thing. Right now, our only goal is going to be to get the Alley Oop up and running, then we’re going to take off from the asteroid and get on a course to Earth.”

  “What about ICC?” asked Vee.

  “We’ll take our chances,” Caitlin said. “Better than sitting around here waiting to die. So here’s what’s going to happen. We need some rack time. Combat naps only. Enough to recharge and get focused. Then, Shaw, start plotting a course to Earth. Vee, you and I are going to go back outside and run some final diagnostics.”

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked.

  “We’ve got a heat shield to try and repair.”

  An hour later, Vee and Caitlin were back on the asteroid, trying to work their way underneath the Alley Oop and fill the cracks in the heat shield with non-oxide adhesive that they had managed to find in the ship’s hold. NOA was standard issue on most reentry vehicles. For years it was called NOAX, with the X standing for “experimental,” but anyone who had crewed on a ship that traveled in and out of the atmosphere knew the agent by its common name: hot sauce.

  The theory behind NOA was fairly simple. The stuff went on like a paste, and when it was heated during reentry, the polymers fused into ceramic and, hopefully, acted as a makeshift shield from the extreme temperatures. In the case of the Alley Oop, it wasn’t that simple, however, because hot sauce usually tended to degrade after about thirty days or so without use. And, judging by the look of the container they had found, this batch was more than a little past the sell-by date. Still, they reasoned it was the only port in a storm.

  As they worked, Caitlin knew it was time to reconnect with Vee.

  “So,” she said, “are you going to tell me your name or not?”

  Vee shook her head in amused disbelief. “Why are you asking me now?”

  “Why not now?” Caitlin said. “In a few days’ time, we’re either going to slam headlong into Earth, be blown into the stars by the world’s biggest nuke, or burn up somewhere over Pacoima. Seems like the perfect time to me.”

  “I don’t like to talk about my name,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  Vee started to formulate an answer, her face distant. To Caitlin, she looked as though she wanted to reveal her thoughts but something was holding her back.

  Eventually, the light returned to Vee’s eyes, and she looked over at Caitlin.

  “It just reminds me of a different time, that’s all,” she said. “One I’m not too eager to relive.”

  “That’s fair,” said Caitlin. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you a secret if you tell me your name.”

  “Are you kidding?” Vee said. “I already know all your secrets!”

  “All right,” Caitlin said, gently squeezing more NOA into the heat shield. “Your loss. It was a good one too.”

  “I’ll try and live with the disappointment,” Vee said.

  Just then, Shaw radioed the two of them.

  “Yeah,” said Caitlin, “go ahead.”

  “We’re getting a call from PDCO,” he said. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

  “OK,” said Caitlin. “Send the feed to our helmets.”

  “Trust me, Boss,” Shaw said. “You’ll want to be sitting down for this.”

  Vee and Caitlin worked their way back into the lander to answer Sara’s call. Once inside, their fingers touched the screen to activate communication with Earth.

  “Sara?” Caitlin asked. “You there?”

  “Yeah, Caitlin,” said Sara. “Me, Alex, we’re all here. The whole team.”

  “Wow,” she said. “Must be big news.”

  “It is,” Sara replied. “There’s someone important who wanted to wish you well up there.”

  “Hi, Mom!”

  Whoa.

  The tears started at once. And, just like Vee’s, they hurt like hell.

  “Hi, baby!” she managed at last. “What are you doing there?”

  “Dr. Kent let me come,” Emily said. “She thought you’d like to talk to me.”

  “Well, Dr. Kent is a very smart woman,” Caitlin told her. “And she knows me pretty well.”

  “She’s nice,” Emily said. “And her sister’s nice too. Me and Ben are staying at her house.”

  “Oh yeah?” asked Caitlin. “Have you been having fun?”

  “Yeah,” said Emily. “They let me stay up and watch movies.”

  “Nothing too scary?”

  “Mooo-om,” Emily said, “I’m not a baby.”

  “I know, I know,” Caitlin said, “but you’re my baby!”

  “Oh please,” said Emily, but the tone in her voice hinted at her happiness.

  “I’m also reading the book you gave me,” Emily went on. “There’s a part in it that made me think of you and where you are right now.”

  Caitlin chuckled. “Is this the part about believing as many as six impossible things before breakfast?”

  “No,” said Emily. “But I like that part too. No, it was where Alice asks the cat which way she should go.”

  “‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’” said Caitlin, quoting the book back to Emily. She knew just about every word by heart. Her father had read it to her over and over again, sometimes starting over the second he’d finished the last page.

  “‘I don’t much care where,’” Emily said. “‘So long as I get somewhere.’”

  “‘Oh, you’re sure to do that,’” Caitlin said, now unable to hold back her tears, no matter how much they stung. “‘If you only walk long enough.’”

  “When are you coming home, Mom?”

  “I’m working on that, baby,” said Caitlin. “Mom’s working real hard. And all those people down there with you, they’re working real hard too.”

  “OK,” said Emily. “Just remember one thing . . . be the best tree you can.”

  “I’d never forget that,” said Caitlin. “And I’ll be home real soon. But you know, even if you can’t see me, I’m still right there with you.”

  “I know that, Mom,” said Emily. “And even though you’re not there anymore, I still love you to the Moon and back. What about you? Do you still love me from the Moon and back?
”

  “Oh, baby girl,” Caitlin said, “I’m so much closer than that now.”

  They said goodbye with a promise to talk again very soon, and then Sara came back on the line.

  “Hey,” she said, “you holding up OK?”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t bring my daughter to talk to me just to brighten my day,” said Caitlin, still trying to collect herself.

  “OK, then,” said Sara. “Tell me why you think I did.”

  “To soften the blow,” said Caitlin. “You’ve got some bad news for me, and you thought being able to talk to Emily might make it easier to hear.”

  “That wasn’t why I had you talk to Emily. She’s been asking from the minute she touched down at Dulles. But you’re right,” Sara said. “I’ve got some bad news. And there’s no way to sugarcoat it, so I’m not even going to try. The president is going to use the nuke. When Thresher is close enough, he’ll launch the rocket and detonate near the asteroid, and whatever happens, happens.”

  “What about us?”

  “He’s got a nice little story to tell the country about you,” Sara said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her voice. “You’re all going to be heroes who tried to save the world and, having failed in that attempt, nobly agreed to sacrifice your lives so that the world may go on.”

  Caitlin looked around at the others on board the Alley Oop, and tried to make sense of this new revelation. Basically, the people of Earth had just told them in one voice that there was no help coming. Worse yet, in a relatively short amount of time, they were either going to be blown to cosmic dust or punched into some far corner of the galaxy by the big fist of a planet that wanted nothing to do with them. The news was a lot to take in. To Caitlin, it was shocking and upsetting, but also, strangely, she felt ashamed. Almost dirty, as though her status as an “illegal” had made her in some way untouchable or unworthy of a second thought. Although she had no way of knowing, she imagined that Shaw and Vee were feeling something similar.

  Finally, Caitlin said the first thing that came to mind.

  “Well that sucks.”

  “Nicely put,” said Sara. “If we had more time, more resources, then maybe there would be a chance. But we just don’t. I’m sorry, Caitlin. I’m so sorry.”